Safe House
by WhiskeyTangoFoxtrot
Summary: Ron Weasley is an Auror. Ron's mission is to watch Daphne Greengrass and make sure she stays safe. Things get complicated. But no less fun. For the Rare Pair Shorts SuperChainReaction Challenge; this is an extended version of my LJ story.


**The Challenge:** This was written for the the LJ community Harry Potter Rare Pair Shorts Chain Reaction SuperChallenge, and it's my attempt at a sexy(-ish), fluffy story. We had to pick a character we love writing, pair them with a character from a list that RPS gave to us, and choose two other characters that creates a "chain" to the last relationship in the story. I picked Ron Weasley as the character I love writing. Daphne Greengrass was the character I chose from their designated "D" list, and Lavender Brown and Angelina Johnson were the two past relationships of Ron's before he was seduced . . . err, before he found Daphne. I couldn't mention Ron and Hermione, because they do not count as a "rare pair". This is independent of any of my pre-existing Daphne stories.

Despite the fact that I'm an avid Ron/Hermione fan, I've been dying to write Ron and Daphne out for ages. I may write some more. Enjoy (hopefully!)

* * *

"Check and mate!"

Ron Weasley slapped his hand on the table and turned a smug grin upon his opponent. She had a sour expression upon her face. Her brown eyes never leaving his, she flicked her queen over. It protested vainly in its arch towards the chessboard.

"Fine."

"What's the matter, Greengrass? Slytherins don't like losing?"

The dark-haired Daphne Greengrass folded her smooth arms together. Her nails were meticulously painted and her diamond ring, the only possession of her old life that she had managed to keep, gleamed as it caught the flickering candlelight of the safe-house.

"Slytherins simply know which battles to fight, and which ones to avoid."

"Yeah, I'd say your lot's well-versed in that. Exhibit A: The Battle of Hogwarts."

She turned red. "I had to watch out for Astoria. I didn't want anything to happen to my sister!" He nostrils flared slightly, as they usually did when Ron goaded her about her House's contributions, or lack thereof, in defeating Voldemort. "Besides, what more could you have wanted from us? Severus Snape proved a worthy ally in the end. The Malfoys were integral in getting wee Potty—"

"It's _Harry Potter_, and he's the reason there's no more V-Vol–"

Sometimes, it was still too hard.

"He's the reason why there's no more Voldemort!"

"Yes, yes. _Potter_ then. Narcissa Malfoy was integral in bringing Potter back to Hogwarts to defeat him. And then you have me."

"Hm, it always seems to come back to you, doesn't it?" he asked, quirking his eyebrow.

She ignored him. "I'm one of the rare Slytherins who's now actively assisting the Ministry and is willing to testify against my own father and all of his known dark associates."

"Only because Harry and I found you disguised. While you were sunbathing in Tahiti. We had to drag you back to England!"

"And I am ever so grateful for your hospitality."

She clearly was not.

Ron finished off his butterbeer. So long as he was on duty, he refused to drink anything stronger than that. Although being tasked with watching Daphne Greengrass, sometimes Ron was tempted for something with a little more bite. He wondered, not infrequently, why he had signed up to be a bloody Auror in the first place. Sometimes . . . when he wasn't staring at her body, at her face, at the curve of her perpetually red lips.

Ron stifled a groan; he really needed to get away from here.

"Another game?" By the bum sweat of Osiris, did his voice have to crack this much? He was a grown bloody man now. He had faced down Voldemort and his Death Eaters next to Harry and Hermione. Dammit! He could handle this little ball of sarcasm.

This _v__ery_ sexy little ball of sarcasm.

_Dammit_!

She scoffed. "No. I'm bored."

"You're always bored. And I'm no entertainer. I'm just the Auror charged with making sure you live long enough to finally put Virgil Greengrass behind bars. So cheers." He raised his nearly empty glass.

Daphne huffed as he turned to his chess set. Ron waved his wand, and the pieces marched, grumbling and mumbling, back into the box. He closed and locked it, Banishing it to his room. Where he slept . . . while sharing this safe-house with a Slytherin.

Albeit a positively stunning one.

Daphne sashayed to the kitchen, searching for more firewhiskey. Ron watched her as she leaned over, her body twisting around, giving him full, unencumbered access to view her buttocks wrapped in a tight black skirt. They were the perfect shape, round and lush, tapering to her slender, tanned legs. Watching her move, her body swaying to and fro, he felt his mouth dry out. Without thinking, he chugged the rest of his drink.

Ron spluttered, nearly choking on an ice cube.

Daphne spun around, her hands full with her empty glass and firewhiskey bottle. It was her preferred drink whenever she was forced to be around him. Usually she only had one glass. Tonight, though, she was angling for two.

She smirked at him. "Easy there, Weasley. Hah, _Easy Weasley_."

"Stuff it." He swore internally; he hated sounding like he was still back in school. Especially around her.

 Daphne sat back at the table and proceeded to pour herself another drink. Pausing, she lifted the bottle and, without asking, poured the rest of the contents into his glass.

"Hey!" Ron protested, his hand trying to stop the liquid from falling into his cup; it was a feeble attempt. "I don't drink on duty!"

The dangerously coy look she gave him quelled any further reply. She watched him with probing eyes, corking the bottle back up.

"So, _Easy_ Weasley, I'm curious."

He rolled his eyes and tried to subtly adjust himself in his seat, two actions that seemed to encapsulate every interaction with Daphne. He knew why he was so attracted to her. It was his way with witches; it couldn't simply be just the smart ones, the funny ones, or the fit ones.

Ron needed a spark, that kinetic energy in his relationships. He needed someone to keep him on his feet, a woman who could give and take and give it right back. And, of course, he'd do the same so long as work never got in the way.

Which, unfortunately, always seemed to be the case.

He waited for her to continue.

"There's been a lot written about your love life, Weasley."

He groaned. "No."

"Oh please, Ron." She never used his first name, and he had to admit her voice made it sound good. "Just a few questions. I swear I'll be good. I won't press or badger. I'm just dying for some good gossip, and I know you can give me what I want."

He felt his face twitch and she saw it. She knew she had him, hook, line and sinker. He took a drink.

"Ask away."

She straightened her back and grinned. "Well, Hermione Gr—"

"No."

"No? But you said—"

"No. We're not starting there." He gave her his stoniest expression. "I mean it. Or we're done, and the most you can expect to hear from me are—"

"A bunch of sophomoric swearing and bloody hells? Not to mention those vulgar noises you make in the shower?" She grinned, cat-like, at him, and Ron knew he was as crimson as an apple. "Okay Weasley. You win."

After a moment, and a glare, he began again. "I'll start with Lavender Brown. Don't know if you knew that Lavender and I dated back in school—"

"Yes! That's right. Sixth year. Although I could've sworn you were dating the Giant Squid's blonde-haired daughter."

"Who's telling this story? You or me?"

She leaned forwards, grinning. "You are, Ron," she purred.

"Er, right." He coughed and adjusted himself in his seat. Again. "Well, she was one of the students hurt worst in the battle."

To his surprise, Daphne's face stiffened as he spoke.

"I spent a lot of time in her room at St. Mungo's, talking to her, not talking to her. Hell, I even brought Bill with me, so she could connect to someone who knew what it felt like to be attacked by a werewolf. Greyback no less." He took a drink of his firewhiskey. "Lavender, she wasn't herself, y'know? After the war."

"I'd expect not." As far as Ron could tell, Daphne's voice was without any cynical tone. She sounded rather straightforward.

"It hurt. Our friends, well the ones who survived at least, we all tried to do what we could. I'd bring a shitload of Wheezes with me and and usually do or say something stupid to get her to smile."

A grin grew slowly on Daphne's face. "And did she?"

Surprisingly, Ron found himself smiling as well, remembering. "Yeah, she did. It took time, sure. But she smiled, and then she laughed, and every once in a while, she'd crack some barmy joke about smelling something foul any time Bill or I or any other blokes from school came by for a visit. You know, due to her heightened, wolf-like senses."

"Yes I get it, Weasley."

"And she faked hunting us too. One time," Ron said, with a laugh, "I came into her room. I saw her bed was empty and I got worried, so I turned around to go get help and _ROWAR_!_" _He held up his hands like claws and bared his teeth. "She jumped out from behind her door, growling and roaring like a wolf gone mental! She fell right into my arms and one thing led to another . . ."

"You kissed her then, didn't you?"

"Yeah, I did." He smiled wistfully at the memory. "Merlin, Lavender has a helluva laugh! It doesn't matter what her face looks like, doesn't matter that she can't walk without a cane. She has a laugh that fills her face, that makes her eyes twinkle."

Daphne's mouth twitched. "She thought you funny."

"Oh she thought me a _riot_! And I liked making someone laugh."

"Like you make me."

Ron blinked. She had spoken so quietly, her voice floating just under her breath, but she still had that impossible smirk on her face. She knew full well what she had just said and she wanted him to react.

He could only blush.

Daphne regarded him pensively. "Was that a sign of good things to come?"

"Yeah, it was. Infinitely better than before. I don't think people realize how much Lavender changed that last year at Hogwarts."

She gazed at the floor. "She took the Cruciatus a few times. She was also whipped more than once. She took the punishments meant for some of the younger students, when the Carrows 'disciplined' them." She shut her eyes and drank, her body twitching as she swallowed. He suspected it had little to do with the alcohol. Daphne turned back to him, her eyes haunted and weary; Ron could only guess that it was the memories of school causing her look at him with such profound sadness. It wasn't unusual for her to look like this whenever she remembered Hogwarts, despite her proclivity for making quips and engaging in sarcastic banter. He knew that the pain appeared whenever she thought of her seventh year and the Carrows. It wasn't something they ever discussed, but living in such close proximity to Daphne Greengrass had made Ron acutely aware of the effect of things said and unsaid.

"You know, sometimes, I still hear screaming." 

Ron nodded slowly. "All of us have our things from the war." His hand went to his chest, rubbing it thoughtlessly, still feeling a locket-sized weight around him. He shook himself out of it. "Lavender and I started seeing each other, and, like I said, it was good. She was recovering, preparing for her N.E.W.T.s. I'd been doing shifts at the shop and preparing for the Auror Programme." His smile faltered. 

"What happened to you and Lavender then?" 

"Two words: the Auror Programme."

Daphne's lip twitched. "That's three words," she said gently.

"Yeah. Well, I was away far too long for those first few months, and I couldn't be there for her like I needed to be. Like she deserved."

"Isn't she back with Finnigan?"

Ron nodded. "The wedding's in two months, actually. I'm invited. No hard feelings there. Lavender and Seamus think I helped her through her darkest time."

"Sounds like you did."

He laughed humorously. "Nah. She did it on her own."

Daphne breathed out, her chest rising and falling softly. "All right. Next?"

"Who? You mean Angelina?"

"I was about to say Pansy Parkinson."

"You're angling for a hex, aren't you?" It didn't come out quite as sarcastic as he wanted it to. It sounded almost like he was flirting.

"Depends on the spell, Ron."

She really needed to stop calling him by his first name in that sexy voice.

"Well, you'd have had no reason to know Ange back in school, but she's a--"

"A _what_?"

"Sh-she's a little tough." Ron took a sip of his firewhiskey.

"Was Auror Weasley scawred of the wittle giwrl?" Daphne said, her voice both teasing and soft. She smirked, but it was tinged with such playfulness that Ron found himself less angry at the insult and more . . .

_Aroused, right Ronniekins?_

_Oh grow up!_

He shifted again. "Ange came back after being picked for the Tornadoes' reserves. Quidditch really wasn't her thing anymore; mostly, she was forcing herself to move on before she was ready."

"Move on?"

"From losing Alicia Spinnet. Leanne Edwards." He shifted his neck as he felt his chin quiver. "From losing . . . Fred."

He said his name far too quickly; he couldn't linger too long on his brother's name, even after almost two years.

Daphne drew back and blinked. Both took drinks of their firewhiskey.

"I'm sorry, Ron. For your loss."

"Yeah. Thanks." He furrowed his brow and coughed. "Well, one night, Angelina found me at the Cauldron shortly after Lavender and I broke up. I had been on a tear: drinking, yelling and fighting people, engaging in behaviour unbecoming to the Auror Department. Nearly got myself kicked out."

"What kept you in?"

Ron flashed her an incredulous look. "The fact that three-fourths of the Auror Department had been killed and/or followed Thicknesse while he was at the Ministry. They needed me, issues and all." He blushed as he took another drink and grinned. "Ange talked to me. Actually, it was more like Angelina yelled at me for acting like a pathetic wanker, which I kind of was."

Daphne snorted.

"She took me back to her flat and I'm pretty sure she slipped me a dose of Veritaserum. She'll deny it to this day, but whatever it was, I was spilling my guts out to her. Telling her everything I had ever felt about everything. It was weird and oddly normal at the same time. She had been Fr-Fred's girlfriend ages ago, but more than that, she was his friend. His and George's and Lee's. She already knew a lot about me because of my brothers."

"Maybe she didn't slip you the Veritaserum then."

He made a sound between a snort and a chuckle. "Well, whatever happened, she cleaned me up, and let me stay to sober up. And she always seemed to be there whenever I'd go on one of my benders." Ron raised his eyebrows. "She never let me get away with any shite. And one night one thing led to another and soon we were in her bedroom, shagging like bunnies."

"Interesting recovery process."

"It lasted for a few months. She got a job with the Ministry that had her on the road, travelling a lot. And I was never around, so . . . you know the rest."

Daphne said nothing for a few moments. "It must be hard then. This life. Sharing it with a witch." 

He brought his glass down, finishing off his drink. "It is. I was the one everyone expected to end up with Herm—"

Ron caught himself.

"I'm important to the Ministry, but I don't have a lot to show for it. Lavender and Ange are both amazing witches, but it wasn't meant to be with them."

Daphne moved closer to him. He became acutely aware of her floral scent, the smell of fruit in her hair. "Well, I'm here, Weasley."

Ron didn't take his eyes off of her. "That you are."

She swirled her finger on the top of his hand. "And I'm here because I'm important to the Ministry too."

His heart was racing. "Yeah. Important to the Ministry." He watched her lick her lips, suddenly unable to catch his breath.

"So, if both of us are important to the Ministry, and we're here together—"

This was the last thing he needed, for her to finish that sentence. "I'd better go check the wards. Wouldn't want to let anyone get in here."

He was just about to stand up out of his chair, when she grabbed hold of his hand firmly. Daphne cupped Ron's cheek and, before he could protest, she drew his face forwards, touching her lips to his.

He stiffened, not wanting to enjoy the feeling her kiss him, her tongue gliding across his lips, her arms tightening around his body, her chest pressing against his.

The kiss lasted for hours, or so it seemed. They broke apart, breathless, panting and flushed. Her hands remained clenched on his shirt and his were wrapped around her back, buried in her thick hair. He dived forwards, pressing his lips to her neck, grinning like a randy madman when she moaned.

"Why don't we use my room, Ron?"

He pulled away, nodding furiously. "Bloody brilliant idea!" How he managed to speak at that moment was beyond him. They both got up out of their seats, their lips attached to each other's, sucking and snogging like they were two teenagers back at school.

"Hey, you never told me about your love life."

Daphne pulled away from Ron's mouth, and instead squeezed his buttocks with her hands. "Later, Weasley. Take clothes off! Bedroom! _Now_!"

He nodded vigorously as both of his training and spellworn hands cupped her magnificent arse and pulled her close to him, lifting her body so she could wrap her legs around his waist. It was such an irresistible vise. His body reacted the only way it could, especially after weeks of no proper physical contact with a witch, much less a gorgeous one like Daphne. They bolted for her chambers, pulling and tugging their clothes off as they passed through the threshold. . . .

Ron woke the next morning, starkers and entangled in Daphne Greengrass' similarly naked body. He watched her and smiled as she stirred.  

"You're 'wake," she mumbled, her eyes still shut. Ron smiled as he kissed the top of her chest.

 "I am."

Smacking her lips, Daphne slowly opened her eyes, grinning at him as she ruffled his hair.

"So what we did last night was part of being protected under the Auror Department, hm?"

He smirked. "Can't say for sure, but it definitely involved being _under_ an Auror."

Daphne's eyes popped open and she growled, rolling on top of Ron. "You forget the times I was _over_ an Auror. At least twice."

"Care to make it three?" he asked, grinning. "Give my training a real workout."

He ran his hands down her sides. She hummed, extending her arms above his head, grasping the wrought iron of the headboard with her hands and smiled.

"It's ironic, I think."

"Mm . . . what Weasley?" she murmured as she kissed him.

"Well, my other relationships didn't work out, thanks to this job." 

"Mm-hm?"

"But because of my job, I met you."

"Weasley."

"Yes, Daphne?"

Instead of saying anything else, she merely smiled before kissing his chest again, a little lower than before.

_Fin._


End file.
